Plan B
by yuminose
Summary: After the war and Ron's death, Harry and Hermione live their lives by Plan B. And what's with all those goats? Rating may go down. Full Summary Inside. HGSS, HP? slash
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: We own nothing of Harry Potter. Honestly, do we look like a middle-aged British woman?

Summary: "Hey, look, it's a goat!" After the war, 22-year-old Hermione is crushed by Ron's death but decides to keep living on Plan B, like Harry suggests. When Hermione fills out a matchmaking application, she is matched with the most unlikely person. Will she ever find love again? Who is the secret lover Harry has been sneaking around with? And what's with all those goats? Find out in **Plan B**, a new fic by the brilliant Yuminosé team.

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Chapter 1

"Hey, look, it's a goat!" Harry exclaimed, causing Hermione to roll her eyes. The war had ended the month before, and grief had settled in with a vengeance. Many people had died in the war, so they decided to have a large funeral in which everyone could share their grief, rather than many smaller ones.

"Yes, Harry, it's a goat. Now pay attention, Fudge is speaking," Hermione replied blandly. While everyone else was sad, Hermione was depressed. Though everyone seemed depressed that day, she was Ron's death a little too seriously- at least, that's how it seemed. See, she had a secret. But enough about that now, back to the funeral.

"…and that is why Sneakoscopes are unreliable," Fudge commented randomly. Mrs. Weasley coughed impatiently, as though reminding him to stay on topic. Coughing lightly, embarrassed, Fudge continued.

"I wish you all well in in your mourning. There is food in the dining hall to your left. Good day," he finished, stepping off of the platform in front of the window that held a view of the graves.

Instead of following Harry into the dining hall, Hermione went outside to visit Ron's grave.

She laid a flower on the grave, feeling another wave of grief well up in her. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

With the chilling feeling that it was Ron, she turned around, but only found Draco looking at her with a confused expression on his face.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked, his voice filled with concern.

"I'm fine, Draco, just a little tired," Hermione answered with a sad sigh.

"Okay," he responded, though he didn't quite seem to believe her. "Well…. Have you seen Blaise?"

"I thought he went into the dining hall with you and Pansy…?"

"Yeah, he did, but now we can't find him." He shrugged.

"Oh. Well… no, I haven't seen him since then," she replied, mirroring his slight shrug.

"Thanks anyway. I've got to go. By the way, did you see that goat?" She shook her head no, so he shrugged and said his salutations, walking away.

Reaching midday, it became colder so Hermione retired inside with a final mournful look at Ron's grave.

People looked at her warily as she walked through the door to the dining hall, as though she was going to break down at any moment. Mrs. Weasley, upon noticing that Hermione had finally made her way into the dining hall, started her way through the crowd towards the depressed Granger with a resolute look on her face.

Noting that Mrs. Weasley was headed towards her, Hermione panicked, and, with a loud crack, apparated away. The crack, placed conveniently during a near-complete lull in the conversation, caused several people to jump and scream rather loudly, which caused others to jump and scream, which cause others to… well, I'm sure you get the idea. This continued for several minutes, and was forgotten a few minutes later.

Several miles away, in London, there was a flat into which Hermione Granger had just apparated.

She searched the flat, calling out "Harry" every time she entered a new room. Sighing lightly, she finally convinced herself that he wasn't home.

The moment that thought had entered her mind, she heard the door slam shut. Re-entering the front room, she saw Harry (who she had just spent about half an hour or so looking for- she had double- and then triple-checked each room, convinced that he had somehow hidden from her) walking towards his room with a smug smile plastered on his face. He looked dazed and thoroughly sated, seeming to almost exude this fact as he left the room. He only dimly greeted Hermione as he did so.

When he shut his bedroom door, and began to sing gaily. Hermione couldn't keep the dumbstruck expression off of her face. His best friend was dead! Yet here he was, gallivanting off with lovers.

A sharp tapping sound erupted at the window. Hermione stopped staring at the spot where Harry had last been standing so she could look towards the window. A vibrant-colored bird hovered impatiently by the window, giving her a hateful look. It tried to peck her hand as she opened the window, and again when she tried to take the letter.

"Must be for Harry," she muttered. "Stupid bird." The bird stuck out its leg in a matter-of-fact way, showing her that the letter was indeed for Harry. Sighing, she called, "HARRY!"

There was a crash in his room, followed by a few well-placed curses. He came out into the front room rubbing his head idly and grumbling.

"What is it, Hermione?"

"This… _thing_ has a letter for you." The bird, looking grumpy, nipped her finger hard. "Hey!"

Harry looked between it and Hermione several times before the dazed looks in his eyes began to fade.

"It's from Ginny!"

"Great," Hermione commented sourly. "The damn pigeon shares her warm disposition."

It gave her a warning look and she cowered. Harry shook his head. He took the letter from the "pigeon" and it rubbed its head against his hand lovingly.

Hermione grumbled. "Stupid pigeon."

Harry gave her a strange look as she and Ginny's bird stared each other down. He muttered something about immaturity before opening the letter and scanning it quickly.

"Ginny's getting married!" he exclaimed before reading further. "Oh… oops." He smiled at her sheepishly.

"What?"

"Nothing." She shook her head, deciding to drop it for pursuit of more important questions.

"Aren't you _in love_ with Ginny? Is there someone else I should know about?"

"Oh, about that…" He blushed and mumbled something unintelligible before saying frantically, "I'm tired. Good night!" He scrambled into his room before she could question him further. When the lock clicked, Hermione sighed.

Looking at the nearby coffee table, she noted that Harry had left the letter. Curious, she picked up the paper and read.

"Dearest Harry Potter," it read,

"Just wanted to let you know that I'm getting married to an American wizard named Stuart Merryweather in October. That's right, only a month away! Isn't that exciting? Oh, and I'm pregnant! Teehee. Mum and Dad want me to tell you that they're renewing their vows on Friday, because they were too busy to owl you. Hope this gets to you in time!

"See you there,

"Ginny Weasley.

"P.S. Don't tell Hermione about any of this."

Grumbling about "damn Ginny!" and "damn pigeons!" (the bird had flown off after Harry had left, but not before glaring at Hermione one last time), Hermione threw down the letter in disgust. Mumbling to herself about all the romance she was surrounded by, she decided to go to the bar and drown her sorrows in alcohol.

Grabbing her coat, she flung the door open and stomped off, slamming the door shut again behind her.

After apparating to the Leaky Cauldron, she seated herself at the bar.

"What'll it be, Ms.- Ms. Granger! Well, I haven't seen you since your graduation. What, five years?" Tom, the bartender, asked.

"Yes, before the-"

"Ah, you were such a wee gal then at 17. Going into Auror training, weren't you? Whatever came of that?" She rolled her eyes at the man's innate curiosity.

"Can I just get a firewhiskey?" The man huffed at the girl's rude dismissal of his questioning.

"Fine," he replied, cranky. He got her the drink and then refused to speak with her again.

She downed one after another, whining to anyone who would listen about her problems in love. After the sixth…. seventh…. eighth… Well, after a number of drinks, a man whose face was completely covered by his hood came up to her.

"Hermione," he said, touching her arm softly, "did you see that goat that came out of the matchmaker's office in Diagon Alley?" When she shook her head no, he cursed softly and left.

Suddenly, a brilliant thought occurred to her. "I'll fill out a matchmaking application!" she exclaimed, rushing into Diagon Alley.

Sighs of relief followed her stumbling form as she exited the pub.

When she finally made it back to the flat, she had the application clutched in her sweaty palm. She had argued with the obstinate woman about the 200 galleon application and finally won.

"Maybe I'll fall in love," she said, dropping the application on the coffee table.

Laying down on the couch, she promptly passed out.

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The Yuminosé Team  
Fynmara  
Garjzla

Preview of next chapter: not needed, already up


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next morning, Hermione woke up to her own cry of "Oh no! The goats are after me!" Groggy, she looked around the room blankly, wondering why she was on the floor. Remembering snatches of what had happened the night before through her hangover, she blushed and groaned.

Still blushing, she looked up at Harry, who had laughed at her exclamation and the fact that she had fallen off of the couch as she had yelled. He was sitting in a chair on the other side of the coffee table, holding something in his right hand. Before talking, he tossed a hangover potion to her and waited until she had downed it.

"What is this? he asked, holding up the paper.

Reading the title, she groaned, "Rekam Hctam service."

"Yes, glad you can still read. Well, are you going to fill it out?"

"Of course not!" she practically screamed, causing him to raise an eyebrow and smirk. "You know, you remind me of Draco Malfoy when you do that," she spat in distaste.

"Off topic, dear," he said quickly. "Why not fill it out?"

"Because…because…well, it's just not right!" she replied, crossing her arms.

"Look, Hermione, I know you and Ron planned out your whole lives together. I know that you cared for him. But, 'Mione…he wouldn't want us to live like this, mourning his loss forever. He would want us to mourn, yes, but he would also want us to continue living. Hermione, it's time to start Plan B," Harry said calmly.

"Plan B?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, Plan B," he repeated, irritated. "When Ginny left before the War started, my Plan A was destroyed. So, I started working on Plan B."

"Well, what is it?" Hermione asked curiously. Looking a little bit jumpy, Harry checked his watch before answering.

"Oh, look at the time. Sorry, I have to go," he replied, jumping up and running out the mysteriously open door.

"Hermione," a voice called from the study. She stood up and closed the door before heading into the study to take the fire-call.

"Hello, Draco," she commented, seeing his platinum-blond hair.

"Hey, Hermione, have you seen Blaise lately?" he asked, looking around the study.

"No, Draco, I haven't."

"Oh, okay. By the way, did you know that there's a goat looking in the window?" he asked, causing her to look at the window.

"But, Draco, there is no goat…" she said, trailing off when she turned back to the fireplace. There was no blond head sticking out of the fireplace.

Confused, she just shrugged and returned to the living room. Picking up the application that Harry had hastily dripped on the table before running out, she contemplated filling it out.

"But I can't," she spoke out loud to no one in particular. "How could I forget Ron?" She thought about Ron- all the good times they'd shared and all the bad. "I won't forget you, Ron," she promised, "but it's time for me to move on."

Resolutely, she sat down to fill out the application. After 56 questions (including a strange one about goats), Hermione sealed it in an envelope and sent it off with Hedwig. She stared after the owl as it disappeared into the horizon before suddenly realizing what time it was.

"I'll be late for work!" she exclaimed, rushing to change her clothes and get ready.

When she finally reached the Potions wing of the Ministry, she was an hour and a half late. Fortunately, the Potions Report Filing Department was near the entrance to the wing.

As she entered the office, Kerry, often her partner, was entertaining a few girls.

"So the goat walks into the bar and says-"

"Lutzan, we've got work to do." He gave her a hateful look as the girls left.

"Boss wants to talk to you," he said, his voice full of spite. "Something about Harry Potter. Been screwing around with him now that Weasley's gone?"

"Shut up. You're just mad that I'm not screwing around with you." She laughed at his surprised look before heading to the office of Preston Thomas, who was the head of the Potions wing.

"Yes, boss?" she asked upon entering. He looked up at her and smiled before motioning towards a chair.

"Your little friend, Harry Potter, dropped in today." At the angry expression on his face, she became wary.

"Sir, I can explain-"

"Just because your best friend is a war hero, Ms. Granger, does not mean you are important! You will be stuck in a dead-end job for the rest of your life, mudblood!" She stood, outraged.

"My ass, Thomas!" she exclaimed. "I'm smarter than you could ever dream of being! And I will get my Potions Mistress with or without you, jerk!" she kicked her chair over before exiting the Potions wing and slamming the door, oblivious to the strange looks she was getting.

When Harry stumbled into the flat with a gleeful look on his face many hours later, Hermione was waiting for him.

"Why, hello, 'Mione," he began, but stopped at the look on his face.

"I lost my job."

"Oh, Hermione, I'm sorr-"

"What gives you the right to burst into my life like that? I was doing fine!" she shouted.

"You were not! You were horrible! You hated your job, and you know it!"

"True," she replied. "But at any rate, I've decided to become a Potions mistress."

"That's gre-" Harry was interrupted by a knock at the door. There was no one there when he opened it, however, so he turned to look down the hall. "That's odd. There's a goat walking down the hall. She went to look down the hall beside him, but she couldn't see a goat anywhere. She turned back inside and noticed an owl at the window.

"The results!" she exclaimed, leaving Harry rubbing his chin and muttering about goats. She threw open the window before taking the letter.

"Dear Ms. Granger," she read out loud.

"Thank you for using the Rekam Hctam service! Your perfect match has been chosen. Your blind date is on Thursday, September 23rd at 6:00 in "El Lugar De Amor" in Diagon Alley, with a man who matches you by 92. Have fun!

"Love,

"The Rekam Hctam service."

Looking up at Harry, she gasped. "That's tomorrow!"

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The Yuminosé Team  
Fynmara  
Garjzla

Preview for next chapter: "Severus Snape, my name is Hermione Granger and I am your blind date."


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